


Baby

by mansklig



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: An extremly sad writer wrote this, Desus - Freeform, M/M, the walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansklig/pseuds/mansklig
Summary: You know what they say, about how you'd feel death approaching?





	Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because Desus deserve a good conversation before everything goes to hell.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her." Paul quietly hummed the song as he placed the now clean clothes into the drawer.

"Stop."

"Stop what? Piling clothes?" Paul asked, eyebrow raised, questioning.

"Stop singin'." Daryl replied, eyes squinted as they skimmed the words of the book in his hands.

"Am i that bad?" Paul asked. He shut the drawer, then shrugged off the heavy coat off his shoulder, before sitting on one of the chairs across from Daryl.

"When you're singin' shit like that, yeah." Daryl muttered. Paul is quiet for a while, and Daryl means to ask him why he's been acting off since the morning, but the man beats him to it.

"I feel like I might die soon."

He didn't want to voice his feelings, knowing that it won't make him feel any better, and that it'd probably make Daryl more anxious than he usually is.

But this feeling has been bugging him for a while now, _suffocating_ him, in fact.

Daryl instantly jerks upwards, the book that occupied his hands now forgotten on the other side of the couch.

"S'wrong? Were ya bit?" The question alone makes his heart clench painfully, and he finds himself standing in-front of Paul as his eyes scan him for any injuries.

"No- no Daryl i wasn't bit, i'm fine." Paul reassured, regret fueling through him when he notices Daryl's shaky hands.

"Then what's it? Are you sick?"

"Don't think so." Paul replied, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat.

Daryl's questioning gaze burns through him, and he wonders if he'll understand.

"I-its not like that- Just, stupid. Kinda like i can feel that i'll die soon, nothing's wrong, wasn't bit or scratched or hurt. Just .. scared, guess Kal's negativity is rubbing off on me."

A part of Daryl wanted to smack him for scaring the crap out of him the way he did, and the other part wants to suck the feeling out of him and inject it into himself to keep it away from Paul.

"You ain't dying. Full stop. I'm punching the fuck out of Kal." Paul chuckles, but the hunted look is still glazing his pretty eyes.

"Anyway, what do you mean by 'Shit like that?' That song i was was singing, mister, is a beautiful song by a beautiful man." Paul said, changing the subject of their conversation.

He's always been good at that, at averting things when they got complicated, at averting important things, things that mattered to him, things that _scared_ him.

Daryl went with the flow, reminding himself to speak to Paul about the earlier conflict he's having within himself, after he figures out what exactly he'll say about that.

"S'bout death and graves, don' need more shit t'remind us of that."

"That's not what its about, it's about love and how it saves you and how it keeps you going." Paul said, pecking Daryl's lips between his words, before pushing himself into the larger man's embrace.

"Ain't that peachy."

"Go fuck yourself." Paul replied, laughing. The usual quiet easiness settled in the pit of his stomach as he felt Paul's warm giggles fanning his neck.

Daryl pulled him closer, before moving them to the couch. Paul liked cuddling, maybe this would make him feel better, maybe it'd keep his mind off whatever ugly thoughts he's been having. They laid on their not very large couch, with Daryl on the bottom and Paul on top of him. It was quiet after that, for some time, and then Paul started singing again.

"My baby never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, i'd still have my baby and my baby would have me." Paul's slim fingers ran across Daryl's covered chest, gently unbuttoning the first few, before seeking for the naked flesh. Paul wanted to feel him under him, he wanted to remind himself Daryl was here, he wanted to remember that he himself was alive. He kept singing.

"In the low lamp light i was free, heaven and hell were words to me."

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth, no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her."

Daryl raises his head when he feels the peck on his chest, and his eyes meet Paul's pretty ones.

"Ain't layin' ya nowhere, and your time ain't comin', s'wrong with ya?"

"Everyone's time will eventually come." Paul said, resting his head on Daryl's chest. He wants to shut himself up, to stop spitting the stupid words, to stop acting so afraid of something that won't happen anytime soon.

"Nah, yours ain't." Daryl replied, stubbornly.

"I'm not immortal Daryl." Paul muttered, chuckling. His words sadden Daryl, the thought of losing Paul someday terrifies him, and the only thing that pushes it away is the hope that he'd checkout first.

Paul's younger, he's healthier, he's stronger, he's _livelier_. He deserves to live more than anyone else does.

He won't die first, no way in hell.

"Will make sure you are."

"If it happens-" Paul started,

"Man, shut up."

"If it happens, i want you to know tha-"

"Nothing's happenin! And we ain't talkin' 'bout this. You ain't dyin', and if you do, it'll be over my dead fuckin' body, so whatever you gonna say don' matter."

They end it at that, with Paul huffing an irritated 'fine' and finally shutting up. Daryl then mutters a low confession they'd been saying very seldom, before kissing his lover's lips.

Its later at night, hours after making sensual love between the covers of clean bedsheets with the sounds of chirping crickets seeping through the trailer's open window. Daryl speaks the thoughts that have been bugging him since their earlier conversation. At least the ones he'd managed to collect.

"You keep me grounded." Its silent after that, because Daryl still has things to say, too many things,  _and he's so bad with saying what he feels_.

"Before you, nothin' mattered." Daryl mumbles, and then he adds, correcting,

"I mean, i care about all of 'em, they're family, one i never got before all this, and i want them to be safe and to survive this world."

"But you're- you're everything Paul, and if I- If I lose ya, don' think I wanna keep goin'. Not after I had a taste of this."

Paul buries himself into Daryl's chest.

"Shit happens." Paul said, shushing Daryl when he tries to interrupt him,

"And it won't happen to us, _but if it does_ , you can't lose it. We're at war and- and anyone could die. We need to win this, we can't lose after everything we went through with Negan."

"Won't happen if ya don't do nothin' stupid. Ya don' risk your life for anybody, you don' push yourself to the front of death's door like fuckin' usual."

"I won't." Paul said, locking eyes with Daryl's vulnerable gaze.

"Promise me." Daryl said, clearly very serious.

"What?" Paul asked, surprised at the innocent request.

"Fucking promise me or somethin', need to make sure ya sticking to your words."

"I promise you." Paul said, chuckling.

"Promise what? Keep goin'."

"Won't risk my life." Paul replies, rolling his eyes a little.

"Ya won't put anyone's life 'fore your own."

"I won't." Paul said, and then he smiles, and it reaches his eyes.

_Except for yours._

He doesn't say the words. But he knows that Daryl knows, and that it's the same with him.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked, worry coating his voice.

"Nothing, you just look cute when you show affection." Paul replies, laughing some more.

"And that make you laugh?" Daryl asks, a defensive part of him muttering that he always shows affection to Paul.

"I'm just happy Daryl." Paul says, tucking his hair behind his ear, before adding,

"Happy cause i love someone like you." Daryl then tells him he loves him a lot more, and they sleep in each other's arms with peaceful content ringing inside their chests.

It's days later, when the war gets messy and Paul has to break his promise, and he knows he did the right thing because the only emotion rumbling inside of him as Daryl holds him between his shaky arms is content;

And so much love for the crying man.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never invested so much time and feelings in a ship as much as desus, and AMC are breaking my heart by doing this. Anyway, tell me what you think :')


End file.
